


the best healer i ever knew

by AdmirableMonster (Mertiya)



Series: Kanó- and Nelyo and -Káno [9]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Brotherly Love, Complicated Relationships, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Healing, Kidnap Dads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28613232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertiya/pseuds/AdmirableMonster
Summary: Soon after Maedhros and Maglor take in the pair of children that they orphaned at Sirion, Maglor discovers Elrond has a rare talent.
Relationships: Elrond Peredhel & Elros Tar-Minyatur & Maedhros | Maitimo & Maglor | Makalaurë, Maedhros | Maitimo & Maglor | Makalaurë
Series: Kanó- and Nelyo and -Káno [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995166
Comments: 20
Kudos: 70





	the best healer i ever knew

**Author's Note:**

> with particular thanks to daphnerunning

“Sing us a song,” the twins begged.It was a rare day of quiet.They were curled up at Maglor’s feet, while outside the snow blew heavily.Maglor sighed.

“My ribs are very sore,” he pointed out.Larcatal had thrown him yesterday, during a particularly unfortunate incident involving an escaping scarf.“Why don’t you two practice your singing instead?”

The twins looked at one another.“We want _you_ to sing,” Elros said, stubbornly.“Elrond, make his ribs better.”

Maglor laughed, which hurt.“Ai, little one, are you going to find a medicine for bruises?I’m afraid we are rather short of willow bark this winter.”

Elrond chewed on his lower lip, looking to Elros and then back to Maglor.He was the quieter twin—never ill-behaved as Elros was, but Maglor was a little terrified that he would never earn Elrond’s trust as he seemed to have earned Elros’s.There was always a stronger sense of guardedness about the boy.Elros would fly into a rage and punch and kick and scream at Maglor that _you killed our family_ , and Maglor was happy enough to let him, if it would help, but Elrond would just watch.Sometimes he would stare off into the middle distance and hum to himself.

Sometimes he flinched at Maglor’s touch.

“I can make your ribs better,” Elrond said, getting to his feet, and Maglor blinked.Suddenly, a quiet, snowy day had become much more momentous.Elrond rarely spoke in full sentences even when he did speak.Now he was looking Maglor with a mulish expression on his face, something between hurt and determination.

Maglor held his breath for an instant, not sure what to say. _Of course you can_ would sound patronizing.He suspected another joke would just make Elrond go quiet again.Finally, he settled on a neutral, “Show me, then.”

Elrond’s dark eyes flickered, but he stepped forward.He glanced hesitantly at Elros, who gave him an encouraging nod.“Need to see them,” he said quietly.

“You drive a hard bargain, for it is exceedingly cold today,” Maglor responded, but he shrugged off his tunic and pulled up his thick vest to display the ugly purple bruising all across his ribs.“There you are.”

The little boy knelt on the rug at his side.“Can I touch?”

Maglor nodded.Why did this seem so oddly familiar?It wasn’t until Elrond began whispering a mumbled little nonsense-rhyme to himself and Maglor watched, dumbfounded, as the bruising went from purple-blue to green to yellow and faded entirely in the wake of those little hands that he remembered.He remembered a gravel-strewn pathway, falling, crying because it hurt, because there was blood everywhere—and how strange it was to think that it had seemed like blood everywhere—Maitimo’s hands upon him, Maitimo’s voice murmuring something soothing in his ear.The scrape had closed and knitted up.

“ _Elrond_ ,” breathed Maglor, and the little boy looked up at him.

“It feels better, right?”

Maglor wanted to grab him and hug him, but it might frighten the boy.“Yes,” he said, clenching his hand tightly.“It feels better.Thank you.”

“Then will you sing to us, Atya?” Elros broke in.

“Ah—yes.Of course.”He gave Elros a sideways smile.“Though only Elrond has earned it, really.”

Elros sulked.“I made him do it.”

“Of course you did,” Maglor laughed, then looked back at Elrond.He did not know how to speak about this.He did not want the other twin to feel overshadowed, but this was important.“This is a precious gift,” he said, finally.“For both of you.But it may mean that you, Elrond, can do some things your brother cannot, and you, Elros, may do some things your brother should not.You are both so, so important.Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Ugh, _please_ sing to us, Atya,” Elros said, rolling his eyes.Maglor barely stopped himself from the intake of breath that he gave as the word dropped from Elros’s lips.How had even known—they rarely spoke Quenya around the boys—and yet—

Elrond watched him from behind those shuttered, dark eyes, then nodded.“We’re not the same,” he said, clearly, and then—for the first time, Maglor saw a flash of bright humor, almost too old for his young face.“But we both want a song, please.”

“And you shall have one,” Maglor told them earnestly, as he pulled his tunic back on.

* * *

Maglor sought out his brother at the earliest opportunity, once Elros and Elrond were happily playing together in their room.Elros was sprawled out and reading a tattered old adventure book, and Elrond was talking his dolls through what appeared to be a dramatic threeway marriage.

Maedhros was at his desk when Maglor found him, checking a list of provisions.They had spoken little in the past months, and Maglor was positive his brother was avoiding him and the twins as well.It was—not surprising, perhaps, after all that had happened at Sirion.“Maedhros, I need to speak with you,” he said.

“Is all well with the horses?” Maedhros’s voice was calm, neutral.He seemed at least to be in a rational frame of mind.

“Yes, but I have—discovered something about Elrond.”

Without reacting, Maedhros kept running his stump down the column of numbers he was inspecting.“I do not see that is any concern of mine.”

“We are their protectors, are we not?”

“ _You_ are their protector.I said that we ought to send them to Gil-galad.”

“You know that would be too danger—” Maglor cut himself off, not willing to be drawn into this argument for the tenth time.“Nonetheless, this _is_ a concern of yours, Maedhros.Elrond is a healer.A very talented one.”

There was a pause and a quiet little noise as the quill in Maedhros’s hand snapped in half between his fingers.“I still do not see why you believe that to be my concern,” Maedhros said, his voice still perfectly monotonous.

“It is your concern,” Maglor said in a low voice, “because I do not know enough about the healing arts to train him properly.And the best healer I ever knew—”

“ _Don’t_.” He looked up, finally.There was anger and pain in the set of his shoulders; Maglor knew it too well.“Do not finish that sentence.Leave.”

“Maedhros, you know we were both mad that day; neither of us would actually have hurt—”

Before he could finish, Maedhros had risen from his chair and whipped his sword from its scabbard, the point of it blurring with speed before it came to rest on Maglor’s throat.“Do you truly believe that, little brother?” Maedhros asked, his smile widening dangerously.Maglor held himself still as Maedhros teased the sword downwards, dragging down his shirt to expose his collarbone and the ugly, knotted scar upon it.“You threw yourself in front of my blade to protect them, did you not?” He laughed.“The _best healer_ you ever knew?Be thankful I have enough of a mind left to keep myself well away from those children.Now get out.”

“Nel—”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!” Maedhros roared, and Maglor held his breath as the point of the sword shook.It was sharp.His flesh parted a little, and he knew that Maedhros would see the blood beading on his pale shoulder.“Don’t call me that ever again, Maglor. _Get out_ , if you want to live.”Then, softer, his voice shaking, “ _Please_.”

“I’m sorry,” Maglor said weakly, and fled.

He checked briefly on the twins, saw that they were still doing well, and headed out to the stables, his hands still shaking as he saddled Larcatal.He would—he must find some way to reach Maedhros.It was not fair to Elrond.It was not fair to _Maedhros_.He rubbed his hand across the scar on his collarbone.If he had only _trusted_ his older brother, this would never have happened.If he had only—

He rode hard, the wind streaming through his hair.He pressed his face into Larcatal’s mane, telling himself the tears were from the sharpness of the wind and nothing else.She whinnied in concern, and he clung to her warm, living body.“You still love me,” he whispered.“You still love me, even if he cannot.”

Giving up on pretense, he sobbed into her neck, letting himself feel, letting himself drift away to happier times.By the time they had ridden to the river and back, he was calmer, his mind a little clearer.He would need get a good night’s sleep after putting the twins to bed to clear it more.He would need it clear, if he were to get his brother back.Maglor wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

“ _Nelyo_ ,” he whispered, and there was only the wind to hear him.


End file.
